coworker's moving-to-sweden party

and the red lips are out tonight...

frankly, my dear, i don't give a damn.

In continuum of my Favorite Characters, I present the bewitching Vivian Leigh as Scarlett O'Hara.



Gone with the Wind is naturally in Hayley's Top 5, for obvious reasons. As a daughter of the Confederacy, Scarlet embodies the intense bravado of today's woman with the frailty (and enviable ability to faint on command) of women from her time.



She's one of the most vibrant heroines in movie history. A gun-swinging, baby-delivering, goddess of hoop skirts, who could make a couture gown from velvet drapes. She didn't take shit from anyone and Rhett Butler adored her because of it. (Clark Gable! Come on people! What a stud...) I'll admit, I prefer her nonchalant, pre-war character and life (before times got tough and Ashley got married). But...



Who doesn't want to sit around, sipping sweet tea, being courted by a bunch of Southern boys from Charleston?

you won't regret reading this

"Finally, I have the life I have always wanted; and now, when I open the paper and study the engagement pages, read about the girls in their late twenties getting married, my heart goes out to them, and I pray they are doing it for the right reasons and not because they worry they are going to be left behind. I pray they are doing it because they have found someone they cherish, who they can grow old with, whom they truly love, and not just because they are reaching their sell-by date and have found someone who has asked. Simply being loved, I discovered, is not enough."

this article is absolutely worth the time it takes to read:

http://women.timesonline.co.uk/tol/life_and_style/women/the_way_we_live/article4166499.ece

my office conversation with katie

"there's a hair stuck in my goop" - kb
"my goop won't come out anymore" - hc
"my goop got stuck to my clothes one time. once it gets stuck to your clothes, you cant get it off." -kb
*pause*
"are you hearing this conversation?" - hc
*hilarity ensues*

*goop - n. the bright orange, moldable substance that (i think) is supposed to relieve stress or be "fun".

if you feel like being emotional...like i do today. beautiful.

Please confirm how you know each other.

"My ex-fiance recently joined Facebook. I like to believe that he and I are friendly - the pain of break-up long since passed and the who did what to whom no longer an issue. We’ve moved on and we were always good at the friend bit. Besides it’s not difficult to remember someone fondly when they live 9000 miles away.

Honestly, I have no idea how he feels. We both periodically send these “how’s your life that I was almost a larger part of” emails. I’m under the impression that we both send these more out of genuine appreciation of our shared past than a desire to make sure that the other person isn’t happier than the other. I know I hope that he’s happy. Afterall, he was the great love of my life at one time but ours wasn’t something that was sustainable.

Anyway, I opened my gmail today to see that we are now Facebook friends and that he had entered details on how we know each other.

This I had to see.

I mean Facebook doesn’t really have a “we dated for six years, she broke up me, and then six months later we poorly decided to get back together and then I rushed to propose to her, she stupidly accepted, then we spent months pretending this could actually work and then three weeks before the big day she overheard me on the phone telling me mother that I didn’t think I could go through with it” box.

Instead, it appeared Greg went with the next best thing…Please confirm the following details - “You went to college with Greg.”

I certainly did."


*I unfortunately did not write this post - just thought it was worthy of reposting - see link below*

http://perpetualstateofflux.tumblr.com/post/38786198/please-confirm-how-you-know-each-other

"Barack Obama has the DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE tattooed on his stomach. It’s upside-down, so he can read it while doing sit-ups."

http://www.slate.com/id/2193798/

my Michael Ian Black vice

In other news, Obama made up his own seal. Who does he think he is? Just making up seals and shit. It sure does look familiar.



One of Barack's spokesmen says it was a "one-time" use. I guess that means it won't be used again. Until he's President.

Mmmm BEEFY.

Please go pick up the latest edition of People magazine. You will not regret it. Mario Lopez (newbie to Broadway's "A Chorus LIne") has been crowned "Hottest Bachelor of 2008" and is boasting more muscles than a fraternity's biceps-only workout. It's especially helpful if you're trying a new summer diet called bulemia. I present to you, exhibit A.



Mario Lopez as Burt Reynolds as Well We Know HE Shaves.

This is not the AC Slater I know and love. This is my Ken doll on steroids, dipped in baby oil. Help! I've been locked up in Equinox for the past 5 years!

Come back to the bell you chauvinist pig.

taking out the trash

Just in from those celebrity crack babies, the Olsen twins. (or at least one of them) The ever-trustworthy Gawker, reports someone has dug up a few drunken photo ops from some flannel party that screams "I'm so country, ya'll"!

I have a love-hate relationship with the twins. I hate that they wear fur. I love their style. I hate how they have nothing better to do than spend money. No, I'm not jealous.

It seems like a birthday celebration, but who knows with these screw-ups. I guess I'd have a few loose too if I was forced to play the same character as my twin sister, though. (talk about an identity crisis) Oh yeah, Nicole Ritchie and the guy from that shitty band were there too. Freaks I tell you!



http://gawker.com/tag/photo-gallery/?i=396874&t=mary+kate-olsen-party-candids

J.C. Penney gets loose

I'm in complete shock over J.C. Penney's new ad. Sex has finally made it's way into the sales racks of Middle America. Now, I typically walk a fine line between my conservative, Southern up-bringing and liberal New York surroundings - but this has left me at a loss for words (almost).

The ad depicts two teenagers, speed dressing. They've gotten it down to 18 seconds (oh they're good). They call back to the unknowing parental unit with her ass stuck in the lazy boy. "We'll just be in the basement - watching TV". Wink, wink.

Because for J.C. Penney, "Every Day Matters" and "Today's the day to get away with it".



Really, people? What are we getting away with here? Hoping that teens will jump in their parent's Fords and head over to their favorite sex-charged department store to snag a wardrobe with Velcro and snaps? Better yet, the whole family could take a trip to the mall and each member could disperse to their appropriately sexified store sections.

I'm not denying that sex sells clothes (or anything for that matter). Abercrombie discovered this eons ago. (see figure 1) But honestly, I'd rather see old people in a sexified denture ad, than the depiction of awkward, pre-teen, sexual encounters.

My Favorite Characters, and an announcement

Borrowing a idea from one of my fellow finger tapping bloggers, I've decided to start a temporary theme: my favorite characters. This will include celebrities (real or fictional) who:

a) are worthy of idolization
b) i'd do
c) i secretly pine to be

For now, this will continue until I my creativity dissipates. It's pretty broad, so I imagine it can go on indefinitely. We'll see.

And without further ado, I present my first FC: Kate Hudson as Andie Anderson - in How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days.



Kate Hudson is fabulous in general. She's just doing her thing, CondeNast style - writing witty articles and trying to save the world. And who could forget the yellow dress scene? I would forgo a week of meals for that dress/to fit in that dress.

And so, the announcment part of this post. I've taken a Sales Associate position at Style.com (the online home of Vogue & W). And I start on July 7th! Ahk!

"I wish it was Sunday
cause that's my funday."
-- the ever-enlightened Cyndi Lauper

overnight in AC

This past Summer Friday was spent bussing down to Atlantic City for the night. I watched the BF play Blackjack and Craps while cautiously sipping pink vodka/cranberry. Atlantic City is like a much smaller, trashier (if that's possible) version of Myrtle Beach. Where as, the people are basically the same (from Jersey) and there is a rickity-ass "strip" of dollar shops and psychics. After he had his fill of gambling, we retired to our room and ordered room service and a movie. Despite it's seediness, I'd do AC again - if only for the room service and $20 vouchers they give out when you get off the bus.

so much drama in the LIC

Dear People -

I'm sorry I've been neglectful. I've just been overwhelmingly preoccupied, as of late. Many reasons I cannot discuss here. Maybe it was Memphis. Maybe it was southern summer nights. Maybe it was you. Maybe it was me. Maybe it was my legitimatly insane roommate who decided to rent out her room to two strangers (a couple) from Craigslist while she's in Colombia for 2 weeks. Oh, and she told us the day before. Yeah...maybe that was it.

I'll be bock,
Hayley

P.S. We fixed the debacle (as I'm calling it). No sketchy strangers for 2 weeks.

we're doin business here!

sites from the bleecker street fair

The muggiest Saturday ever.



t-shirt stand.



pie in your face.



fresh fruit smoothies.



best gelato ever at grom.

Sex & Candy

Showtime and Comedy Central are really the only two channels I bother watching anymore. Last night, Weeds returned to my life - bringing a visibally older Shane and a much-loved Mary-Louise Parker (originally from Fort Jackson, South Carolina by the way).

And then there was toothy Brit, Billie Piper (what a fabulous name). Secret Diary of a Call Girl was exactly what I expected: soft-core porn. Although entertaining, it will be interesting to see if they can carry an actual story line. If not, it's just a string of steamy Sex scenes, without the City.

trailah

What is it with these Southern pop princesses and their affinity for trailah-ness? Jay Simps has gone way down in my book (long before, but greatly in part to her latest release of a half-ass "country" single). But this is just ridic.



As if her breasts were incapable of drawing attention on their own. I don't even know what this means. Dude, gimme some barbecue.

On the other hand, I'm loving this entire ensemble. Must.find.this.dress.and.bag.

"Well, woke up this morning with a wine glass in my hand.
Whose wine? What wine? Where the hell did I dine?" -- pf

wish list

no vacay this weekend. i'm stuck in this city. and besides the street fair on bleecker street earlier today, there's nothing to do but shop. here are a few things i need:



the new nikon D60 - so i can take some stellar pics and a photography class.



golf clubs (so i can have an excuse to leave on the weekends and perfect/vastly improve my staggering game)



and a pink vespa. this requires no explaination.

i want to join a book club

Is that dorky? Yes I know it is. How do you find one in NYC? I'm pretty sure you have to be invited. God I would be so good at it too. I need to make some book club friends.

My current read:



Hm, the man in this picture kinda reminds me of my Daddy. In the fact that he's a tall, dark, and mysterious human being. Ohmigod I need to go get a Father's Day card. RIGHT. NOW.

it's friday for me

http://www.vh1.com/video/play.jhtml?artist=2084&vid=55086

a little bite of green

I am no self-proclaimed tree-hugger. And I personally find that the entire "go-green" hype is simply a marketing ploy. HOWEVER, this fresh little site is just about the perfect dose of daily green. They are most certainly riding the DailyCandy coattails, what with their look & feel, newsletters and availability to choose BY CITY (hello New York!). But we all love DailyCandy...

http://www.idealbite.com/

oh huffy

"Sen. John McCain appeared on the Today Show this morning and continued to promote his idea of a long occupation in Iraq. But whatever merits there may be for his message, his delivery is once again promising to get him into trouble.

When asked if he knew when American troops could start to return home, McCain responded:
"No, but that's not too important. What's important is the casualties in Iraq."



http://www.huffingtonpost.com/

field trip!

Our entire company is taking us to Six Flags on Friday. I'm guessing that's maybe 600+ people. Flooding the themepark. Packing Mahattan buses, bound for somewhere in New Jersey.

I just picked up my ticket. Booyah - doin it old school, 8th-grade-senior-trip style!

jelly dreams

There is a place in San Francisco, where designers, writers, photographers, and Internet types run a muck. It's called Jelly - and it was started here in NYC back in early 2006 by entrepreneurial lad, Amit Gupta. It's basically where everyone is invited (particularly freelancers and others who work from home) to come to a particular place (they used Amit's apartment for a while) where they can enjoy a casual work environment.

This is better than the time Subway started the Five Dollar Foot-Long promotion.

No, this is WAY better.

This makes me want to run away. To San Francisco (simply because of the pictures below). I want to divorce corprotocracy and have a passionate affair with freedom and a lack of benefits.

Their brilliant rationale:

"They loved working from home, but they missed the creative brainstorming, sharing, and camaraderie of a traditional office. (Office politics, not so much.)"





Seriously. Great.

http://workatjelly.com/

I'm finding all kinds of goodies today - and I really want to switch my blogger to a tumblr account. Dammit, I have nearly a year's worth of non-transferable content. What to do...



St. Mark’s Place between 1st Avenue & Avenue A, Friday evening.

http://mallisser.tumblr.com/

the kind of thing only seen in scented, glossy magazines

I can see myself, back in the day, sitting on the 2nd floor of Patterson Hall (the all girl's freshman dorm at USC). My roommate, Leigh Ann and I stayed up until the wee hours of the morning almost every night. What were we doing? Watching some show about Tommy Hilfiger's daughter who had money coming out of her junk and sing/screaming Celine Dion and Barbara Streisand duets. Dude, do you remember that show??



*the rich girls*



*the p-hall girls*

I can also see myself, listening to John Mayer's "City Love" on repeat - daydreaming. I envisioned myself. For some reason it would be at night. Maybe a little rainy, for dramatic effect. Over a candle-lit dinner, I would sit. With my boyfriend, who probably looked something like John Mayer, and even had his voice. He would be a struggling singer, or maybe an actor. We'd have to share an apartment because we were so poor, but it wouldn't matter because we'd be so in love that we wouldn't have it any other way.

I was Lydia. I would have about 16 toothbrushes lying around all over the place, taking up tons of space. Of course my long, blonde hairs would be all over his personal possessions, because I shed like nobody's business. I'd have some job. Doing something. I'd even wear his clothes to work, because it would be the sort of job, where you can throw on a button down 3 sizes too big and maybe some boxers and just GO.

While at the aforementioned candle-lit dinner, we'd probably have too much wine or sangria or pabst blue ribbon. He'd think about proposing but instead, we'd just go home and spoon to the sound of sirens.

Yeah, that's how it would be when I got to New York City.

we all know how i feel about JENNER

“The Hills star Brody Jenner has scored a new TV show called Bromance, a reality series from Ryan Seacrest’s production company.The six- episode stint will feature a group of “bros” compete to join Jenner’s entourage.

Contestants will have shots at a “group date” and “alone time” with Brody in every episode. At the end of every ep, a rejected “bro” will be asked to leave the bachelor pad dripping wet during a “‘Hot Tub Elimination Ceremony.”

Do you think when he was pitched this story line, that Brody's response was something along the lines of:

"Yes, Yes, and YES"!

“If you cannot find the truth right where you are, where else do you expect to find it?"
— Dogen

her slice of culture pie

Earlier this Spring, 68-year-old, famed photographer, Mary Ellen Mark set out for high schools across this great nation with an awkward 600 lb Polaroid camera. I'm completely enchanted by her discoveries. (is this copyright infringement?)







I found these ringing words insightfully true:

"The photographs make us realize how much the prom is a rehearsal for a wedding," she wrote. "The future bride is practicing for a role that, despite all the apparent changes in our views of women and marriage, has remained remarkably unaltered -- a role that is weirdly and totally retro." (novelist Francine Prose, on the cultural meaning of Mark's photos)

The project will eventually be presented as a book and exhibition. I hope we get a taste in New York.

In addition, I feel so inclined as to post one of my own prom memories. Oh hair no. Bowman Academy 2002

colbert and the spor repor

hil.ar.i.ous.

right now for New York (10018)

Sunny
94 degrees
Feels like:
99 degrees

Weather.com should just say:

"Feels like being trapped in the exhaust pipe of a semi after driving cross-country to deliver buckets of back and boob sweat."

You know the "rest-assured" seat sheets you put on the public toilet? When I got up, it stuck.

more new england

We spent 8 hours in transit today from Boston to New York. I don't think you people with cars have a real appreciation for public transportation. You're welcome for the iPod. For this is the love child of mass transit and boredom.

Thanks to the Sheraton Ferncroft of Danvers, Massachusetts for the complimentary (plus $5 tip) shuttle bus to the shit mobile known as "The T". Sitting atop our luggage in shirt sticking humidity, we awaited the arrival of the Boston Commuter Rail. A big breasted woman donning a "Sox Fans Make Better Lovers" tank top crossed the platform to join us. Classy. I'm convinced Massachusetts' so-called "educated" population directly originates from the other 49 states. Boston got lucky.

Once we arrived in North Station, we navigated the cracker jack subway wanna-be. South Station brought Cosi for lunch and the Lucky Star Chinatown bus. Oh yeah.

A young Latino woman (and her son) (five-year-old son) (five-year-old son with a mom that looked like his sister) sat behind us. Aside from her charming (if loud) cell-phone Spanglish (no, seriously - she was purposely mixing sentences and interchanging words for some reason), we got to hear her son play with a toy designed and created by Satan himself. Then she bumped her MP3 player at full blast. I actually think she might have had a small jute box sitting on her shoulder back there.

I'm supposed to go back to Boston in 2 weeks. But after today, I think I'druther stay latched on NYC's locality leash.

nice day for a white wedding

My bags are packed and we're headed up to Boston for a weekend of wedding festivities. I'm hoping to visit my sister tonight, there's a floatilla during tomorrow day, and a clam bake/rehearsal tomorrow night. The wedding is Saturday, followed by Sunday brunch, and back to NY.

Yesterday I had to walk away from a Marilyn Monroe-esque BCBG halter dress with Valentino frills around the neck and bodice. There was one problem. It was white. I loved it on the rack. I loved it on my rack (or lack thereof). Seriously, it did wonders for my silhouette. I called my mom for reassurance of what I already knew all too well.

"Mom, I can wear white to a wedding, right?" (intentionally stated this way)
"Nope"
"It's 2008. Are you kidding me!? Those old fashioned rules are out the window."

This conversation preceeded a verbatim list of googled responses to the "white to a wedding" question. NO! NEVER! YOU'LL LOOK LIKE AN IDIOT! THE BRIDE WILL HATE YOU!

Sheesh. Okay, okay. I sadly took the lovely dress back to the rack.

And proceeded to purchase the black version instead.

i wanna be a kennedy

So Obama's biz pro battle versus Hillary has (finally) come to an end. Now that the fight in the lime-light is finished, we're all left with a panting, standing-on-a-precipice, sort of feeling. The battle scars are deep on both sides of the evenly torn Democratic party. Emotional opinions have flown high throughout this entire process. We almost forgot about McCain, didn't we? And now we have to question what happens next.

People are so passionate with their views on Obama and Hillary, that right now it seems doubtful that we'll have the mass crossover that the Democrats need. Hillary's voters have said they will either stay home on election day OR vote for McCain.

How is this happening? I honestly didn't think it was possible that America would let another Republican in the White House after the past 8 years.

It's time to whip out the first aid kit, Barack. Make good with Hil's voters before McCain is breezing into the Oval Office without even breaking a sweat.

little country girl

I've been working in my cube to the tune of a radio station from Augusta, Georgia.

For the last three days.

Time to start using summer as a verb.

brody jenner wasn't there

Oh, I forgot to tell you about the Men's Style "Women in Fashion" party. Among 200 or so guests, atop the Peninsula Hotel on 5th avenue, where the Veuve Clicquot was pouring more freely than I liked (the following morning). I waited downstairs for two girlfriends. I was already irritated to be standing in a hotel lobby, since they weren't letting anyone up to the party in Salon de Ning. I absent-mindedly sent a text or two. Pink and black shoes caught my eye. Looked up. Lindsay Lohan. God she's short. Those extensions. Lindsay Lohan. LiLo. I had heard (earlier that day) that she had RSVP'd. She kept walking by, back and forth. Samantha Ronson emerged from somewhere and joined her. A photographer (also waiting to go up to the party) stood next to me. "Lindsay Lohan, right?" I cast a sideways glance as if he had to ask... "yeah".

I should have just worn a sign that said "I WORK IN MEDIA". Looking back, that probably wouldn't have even been necessary. I'm sure everyone just knew. The rooftop views were great. I took cheesy pictures with my girlfriends and took in all the trendy labels that passed by. Designers, editors, NY socialites.

It was fun, but after an hour or so, I was ready to catch up with my friends who were in town from DC. I packed into an elevator down and when I walked with the group out of the hotel, I was surprised to see actual paparazzi on the street below the steps. Lights immediately flashed. I felt famous for half a millisecond, and then walked namelessly down to the subway - back downtown - where I belong.

Things that brighten my day...

Receiving a small stack of thank you letters from the USC maymester class to decorate my cube :)

bitter realization

I spent most of yesterday afternoon sitting in the cart on a manicured golf course in Connecticut. My mind preoccupied with the wherabouts of two bacon turkey wraps with french fries. Pollen visibly circled past us and taunted my sinuses. It wasn't a weekend in the Hamptons, but it was relaxing. A few things I wasn't missing. Young mommies in white, au pair's in tow, lazily/busily discussing plans and engagements and organizing pre-packaged meals. Political conversations (I should obviously be actively concerned with) over dinner. Business, work, summer camp, Ivy League schools, second homes, children, third homes, weddings, life, death, people I don't know. This is serious business. It must be discussed as frequently as possible. This doesn't seem all that abnormal, does it?

So why do I cringe when I hear these conversations? Why am I screaming inside for a mental/physical escape? I reached back in my memory for conversations from the pre-job era. Why don't I remember these topics? What the hell did I talk about? Grades, summer vacatation, part-time jobs, job hunting, boyfriends, graduation.

And then it occured to me. These are adult conversations. This is expected of me. I'm an adult and I'm hanging around with adults. What day did I grow up? I need to accept this and move on. There's such a huge part of me that still wants to sit at the kids table and talk about kid shit. The grown-up table is so boring.

I am so immature, it kills me.